


》Bound《

by Spieluhrenwelt



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Comfort, Feels, Fluff and Smut, Light BDSM, M/M, Mention of Halamshiral, Politics are stressing, Request Meme, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 18:51:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13723851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spieluhrenwelt/pseuds/Spieluhrenwelt
Summary: This is a little thing I wrote for a friend.Lavellan is suffering from post-Halamshiral stress and forgets to take care of himself, Bull is having none of this *ahem* bullshit.





	》Bound《

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I actually write porn in English, and I'm not very confident about it. Have mercy on me (?)

《 I love it when the binds leave bruises on your skin... 》.

The fondness in his voice makes an odd contrast with its usual raw note, which causes your spread legs to shake a bit while you try your best not to fidget your already marked wirsts in the ropes holding them together behind your back; you can't see the Qunari behind you with your face pressed in messy sheets, but judging by his panting and hitching breath you're ready to bet what's left of your ass that his hand is wrapped around his cock.  
  
You respond to your man's compliment with a soft moan and a happy wiggle of your freckled rear; this, as you should have known, earns you yet another spank, one that almost sends you head first into the bedpost and makes your aching erection throb with impatience as a startled yelp escapes your lips. The Bull lets out a throaty chuckle at that, and you remind yourself that you should not be enjoying it this much. That this is supposed to be a punishment.  
  
Do you know why you're being punished, he asks, and you nod, breathing in deeply so your answer comes out as something more than an unintelligible mumble.  
  
《 I said I was going to bed early tonight... 》you begin, genuinely upset at how childish the whole thing sounds now.  
  
《 And..? 》the horned giant encourages you as one of his massive hands comes to rest on one of your abused buttcheeks and you brace your knees further apart from each other on the mattress because you know another strike is coming.  
  
A deep, self-conscious sigh.  
  
《 ...and I stayed up until dawn again, instead. 》. Even as the next hit comes down and makes your flesh sting and burn you are aware that this whole little theatrics is meant to show your lover's concern for you and your well being: you've almost completely given up sleep after Halamshiral, devoting your nights to the impressive amounts of letters you continue to receive from distressed nobles who fear for their comfort at court now that /you/ have chosen an elf to rule over Orlais; and when, after two weeks of this sleepless routine, the Iron Bull had finally come to you to subtly voice his worries, you had dismissed him with the promise of getting at least ten hours of sleep that night. A promise that, needless to say, you didn't even try to keep.  
  
With the last two strokes you can feel tears stream down your heated cheeks - you want to believe they're just your body's natural response to intense pain and not the result of that twinge of guilt the stern disappointment in your love's voice has awoken in you - and the pillows must make a poor job of muffling your sobs because the Bull stops, and what you are convinced was supposed to be another smack becomes a soothing caress on your red skin. In an attempt to turn enough to catch a glimpse of his expression you slowly lower yourself on the mattress, sore hips finally get to rest on the sheets where your precum has formed a tiny pool and you whimper a little at the contact, allowing yourself to cautiously grind on the bed when the tingling in your lower abdomen overcomes the pain in the aftermath of your punishment and reminds you how desperate you are for touch. So does your love, since he turns you over a second later so that not only you can't hump the bed any longer, but you're also fully exposed with your hands still tied behind your back.  
  
Admittedly, you are more than a little relieved when your watery forest eyes don't find any anger or hurt in his face, only a mixture of apprehension and desire that makes your stomach turn, but you sheepishly look away anyway and murmur the faintest "I'm sorry" because it's true, you regret making him that worried, though you're enjoying every bit of what it led to.  
  
He sighs deeply, staring at you for a bit more before nodding with that oddly sweet smile of his painted on the lips you so desperately wish to kiss; he tells you he knows, that you're forgiven since you took your lesson like a good boy, and that, if you're not going to take care of yourself, he will.  
  
Then, just like that, he goes down on you, placing your weak legs above his horns where your knee bends and kissing his way down your inner thigh, downright ignoring your straining member and going straight for your neglected hole: his hot tongue feels way too intense between your freshly spanked cheeks, and you struggle to hold still while his hands travel up and down your hips, ever-so-lightly scratching your sensitive skin or pinching your nipples in a way that has you clenching down on the tip of his tongue that's found its way inside you in the meantime. It shifts between your tight walls, prodding at all your sweet spots, and before you know it you're jolting your hips up, pressing against Bull's face in a frantic attempt to relieve the unbearable heat that's been building up in your guts, maybe even get yourself off if you manage to sink in a little more...  
  
Then, without any warning, your lover pulls away, leaving you a whining, wet, empty mess and giving you the most insufferable smug grin, his eyes lit with hunger and his beard moist from your fluids; he takes in the sight of your dripping cock laying flush on your stomach for a moment before his arms reach around your small waist and you are lifted like it's nothing and placed with your still sore bottom against the impressive length of your beloved, who welcomes your weight with a low grunt and a slight swing of his powerful hips. Aw /hell yes/.  
  
Without your hands free to support you you can only rely on your shaking thighs and his body, which you lay against as soon as his gaze becomes to hot and heavy to bear: while his right hand reaches under you to adjust his thick head where it needs to be before he enters you, the left gently strokes your messy ginger hair as you rest your head on his broad shoulder, placing tiny kisses at the base of his neck. Despite everything, his embrace is so gentle and soft you could easily forget what expects you if it were not for the increasing pressure against your entrance; he asks if you think you're ready, you shiver at the heat of his breath against your pointed ear and give in to your needy self, uttering a plea that he gives what you've been missing so, so badly in the last few days.  
  
He sighs, and the last thing you hear clearly is his loving "Kadan" being whispered over and over again as his hips thrust forward before everything goes dizzy and loud and you lose yourself.


End file.
